Faith and Unfaith: A NovelJ. B. Lippincott Company, 1896 - Всего страниц: 298 |
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Стр. 6
... , dressed in deepest mourning , and of the housekeeper type , answers his summons , her eyes red with excessive weeping . 66 I am going now , " Lord Sartoris whispers to her , in a low FAITH AND UNFAITH . 7 tone . " I have ...
... , dressed in deepest mourning , and of the housekeeper type , answers his summons , her eyes red with excessive weeping . 66 I am going now , " Lord Sartoris whispers to her , in a low FAITH AND UNFAITH . 7 tone . " I have ...
Стр. 7
A Novel Duchess. FAITH AND UNFAITH . 7 tone . " I have finished everything . You will remain here until my return . " " Yes , Mr. Arthur , -yes , my Lord , " she answers , nervously ; and then , as she gives the old title for the first ...
A Novel Duchess. FAITH AND UNFAITH . 7 tone . " I have finished everything . You will remain here until my return . " " Yes , Mr. Arthur , -yes , my Lord , " she answers , nervously ; and then , as she gives the old title for the first ...
Стр. 8
... tone of slow astonishment . " Too long for our present day , " returns his uncle , absently . Then there is silence for a moment or two , broken only by the chatter of the birds in the sunlit garden outside . Presently Sar- toris speaks ...
... tone of slow astonishment . " Too long for our present day , " returns his uncle , absently . Then there is silence for a moment or two , broken only by the chatter of the birds in the sunlit garden outside . Presently Sar- toris speaks ...
Стр. 13
... tone . The moments fly . A clock upon the mantel - piece chimes half - past four . Some bird , in the exuberance of its mad joy . scurries wildly past the windows . Sartoris , with a sigh , turns from the light , and , seeing Miss ...
... tone . The moments fly . A clock upon the mantel - piece chimes half - past four . Some bird , in the exuberance of its mad joy . scurries wildly past the windows . Sartoris , with a sigh , turns from the light , and , seeing Miss ...
Стр. 14
... tone . 66 My dear child , I dare say you are mistaken about Arthur . Your imagination is leading you astray . " " No , it is not . I am the least imaginative person alive , " says Miss Peyton , with an emphatic shake of her pretty head ...
... tone . 66 My dear child , I dare say you are mistaken about Arthur . Your imagination is leading you astray . " " No , it is not . I am the least imaginative person alive , " says Miss Peyton , with an emphatic shake of her pretty head ...
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antimacassars asks beauty believe blush breath calm charming cheek child Cissy color comes dance dare say dear door earnestly eyes face faint fashion father feel gayly gaze gently Georgie's girl give glad glance goes gone Good-by governess gown Gowran grow half hand happy head heart hope Horace Hythe James Scrope laugh light lips look Lord Sartoris marriage marry morning never night once pale papa passionate perhaps poor pretty Pullingham Redmond returns round Ruth Annersley says Branscombe says Clarissa says Dorian says Georgie says Miss Broughton says Miss Peyton says Sartoris says Scrope says Sir James says the vicar seems sigh silence sitting slowly small face smile soft soul speak standing sure sweet tears tell tender thing thought to-day tone turns vicarage voice walks window wish woman word young
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Стр. 130 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Стр. 280 - For it so falls out, That what we have we prize not to the worth, Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue, that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours...
Стр. 296 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing ; While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Стр. 110 - For valour, is not love a Hercules, Still climbing trees in the Hesperides ? Subtle as sphinx ; as sweet, and musical, As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair ; And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Стр. 187 - There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate, She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate. The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near ;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait.
Стр. 267 - The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. An evil soul, producing holy witness, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek ; A goodly apple rotten at the heart ; Oh, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! Shy.
Стр. 237 - Th' illumined mountain, through the forest streams, Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist, Far smoking o'er th' interminable plain, In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around. Full swell the woods ; their...
Стр. 222 - Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide ; To lose good days that might be better spent ; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; To feed on hope ; to pine with fear and sorrow ; To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Стр. 160 - Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth To dim enchantments ; melting Heaven with Earth, Leaving on craggy hills and running streams A softness like the atmosphere of dreams ; Thy hour to all is welcome ! Faint and sweet Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet, Who, slow returning from his task of toil, Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil, And, tho' such radiance round him brightly glows, Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Стр. 264 - Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.